


Orion.

by Elinry



Category: Gandrew - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: AU, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Garrett isn't out yet, Kissing, M/M, Pining, SWEET BOYS, Secret Relationship, Soft Boys, feelings revelation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:08:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27704615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elinry/pseuds/Elinry
Summary: Garrett and Andrew are forced to become friends.“Beside Andrew, he heard Garrett mutter slowly, "Oh my fucking god." He registered dimly that that was the first time he'd ever heard him swear.A flash from someone's camera went off.“
Relationships: Andrew Siwicki/Garrett Watts, Garrett Watts/Andrew Siwicki
Comments: 6
Kudos: 26





	Orion.

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely inspired by Red, White, and Royal Blue. As always, you do not need to have read the book to understand this fic.

**ON THE ROOF OF THE APARTMENT COMPLEX,** tucked into a corner, there's a bit of loose paneling right on the edge of the mechanical room. If tapped just right, it can be peeled back enough to reveal a message etched underneath, with the tip of a key or perhaps a letter opener. In the history of this complex - a gossip mill - there is no definite answer for who wrote it. Some neighbors swear it was Caleb Hurst, with his heavy metal clip that weighed down the front pocket of his pants. Others say it was Ricky Montgomery, sharp metal guitar pick in hand. But it doesn't matter. The writing stays, something private to those resourceful enough to find it. Andrew found it within his first year of living there. It reads: "Rule #1: Don't get caught".

══════════════════

The lights strobed softly in between colors, a deep blue and then a lilac and then a vivid red. The music was loud, it made his skin tingle and his lungs feel like mush. The bass thumped in time with his heart beat, synchronized perfectly, it filled his entire body with music. Andrew liked this song. Ricky leaned on his shoulder, half asleep half awake, swaying along with the words, completely intoxicated with whatever drink he held in his hands.

"Ricky," Andrew whined. "You're heavy."

"Not what your mom thought last night," he muttered, shifting his weight to the wall behind them.

"That makes no sense, man," he laughed and Ricky followed, turning and gesturing over his shoulder.

And there Garrett was, in the flesh, as handsome as ever in his blue flannel shirt, all tousled sandy hair and high cheekbones and a soft, friendly mouth. He held himself with impeccable posture, as if he had emerged fully upright out of some beautiful castle one day. His eyes locked on Andrew's, and something like annoyance spiked in his chest. Andrew hadn't talked to Garrett in years. His face was infuriatingly symmetrical. Garret gave him a perfunctory nod, as if he was any other random person at this party, not the person who lived next door to him for years before he moved. Andrew blinked and watched him angle his jaw at some girl he had brought along with him and his chest grew tighter.

"So is that what's happening now?" He said, glaring at Ricky as he barely held himself together. "Has he decided to shut me up by dancing with some girl who doesn't even live here?"

"You're pathetic," Ricky laughed. He reached over and smacked Andrew's shoulder. "You know not everything's about you."

"It'd be more interesting if it were."

"I think the opposite, actually." Andrew glanced at the crowd, where Garrett was grabbing the girl by the waist. The girl's face had a polite smile on it and he wasn't even looking at her, which was even more annoying. The least Garrett could do was pay attention to her.

"Do you think he actually likes her?"

Ricky shrugged. "Who knows? He's always been weird about dating. Maybe they're just friends or- oh there it is."

Caleb, a mutual friend of theirs, had swooped in and snapped a picture of them dancing, a picture Andrew would probably see trending on Twitter because Garrett was annoyingly famous. So that was it, then? Using some girl to start some idiotic dating rumor? What was he trying to prove?

"He's kinda good at this, the publicity shit I mean." Ricky remarked. Andrew scoffed and kept drinking, alternating between vodka and tequila, disappearing into the crowd and dancing with girls he didn't recognize. He was pirouetting away from one when he caught sight of a lone figure hovering near the drinks. It was Garrett, yet again, beer in hand, watching. He looked half interested in that irritating way of his, like he had better things to do. And Andrew couldn't resist the urge to tell him off. He picked his way through the crowd, downing another shot.

"When you have one of these," He said, sidling up to him, "you should buy more vodka. Really embarrassing to just have two bottles."

"Andrew," Garrett said in that maddening voice of his. Up close, his shirt had brown accents. It was awful. "I wondered if I'd have the pleasure."

"Looks like it's your lucky day." Andrew said, smiling.

"Truly a momentous occasion," Garrett nodded. His smile was bright white and amazing as ever, made to be broadcasted everywhere. Andrew felt nauseous at the sight of it. The most annoying thing of all was Andrew _knew_ Garrett hated him too - he must, they're natural enemies - but he won’t to accept it.

Andrew wished that for once, Garrett would act like an actual human and not some polished wind up toy the media created. He's too perfect, Andrew wanted to poke it.

"Do you ever get tired of it?" He asked.

Garrett turned and stared at him, "I don't think I know what you mean."

"I mean, you're here at the party, getting pictures taken of you, swanning around like you hate the attention, which you clearly do since you're dancing around with all these pretty girls," He said. "You act like you're so important, to be anywhere. Aren't you tired of that?"

"I'd like to think I'm more complicated than that." Garrett attempted.

Andrew laughed.

"Oh," Garrett said, narrowing his eyes at him. "You're drunk."

"I'm just saying," Andrew placed an overly friendly elbow on his shoulder, which was annoyingly way harder than he expected, as Garrett had about four inches of height on him. "You could try acting like you're having a good time. Sometimes."

He laughs ruefully. "You should switch to water, Siwicki."

"Don't think I will." Andrew responded, "Am I offending you? Are we not on a first name basis anymore Watts? Sorry I'm not obsessed with you like everyone else in this party. I know that must be really hard for you to understand."

"Do you know what?" Garrett put a finger to his chin, like he was thinking before saying; "I think you are."

Andrew's mouth dropped open and Garrett's mouth turned smug, almost a little mean.

"Just a thought," Garrett said, politely. "Have you noticed I have never once approached you in one of these parties? That I am the only one to be extremely civil every time we have spoken? Yet you're here again, seeking me out again." He sipped his beer. "Simply something I've observed."

"No, dude, I'm not-" He stammered out. "You little-"

"Enjoy the rest of the party, Siwicki," Garrett said, before turning and walking off. 

It drove Andrew absolutely insane that Garrett thought he got the last word, and without thinking, he reached out and pulled Garrett's shoulder back. And then suddenly, he turned back, and almost did push Andrew off him, and for a brief moment Andrew's impressed that there is a glint of personality in his eyes, the abrupt burst of an _actual_ personality.

The next thing he knew, Garrett was tripping over his own feet and stumbling backwards into the table nearest him. He noticed too late that the table was, to his dismay, the one bearing all the alcohol that had kept the party alive for the entire night, Andrew grabbed for Garrett's arms to catch himself, but all it did was throw them both off balance and into the glass bottles and folding table. He watched it in slow motion and there was nothing he could do to stop it. It came crashing down and the room went heartbreakingly silent, and out of the corner of his eye Andrew could see that the top of Garrett's cheek had begun to bleed.

For a second, all Andrew could think about was how that picture of Garrett and that girl would no longer be the only thing trending. His next thought was that his manager was going to murder him in cold blood. Beside Andrew, he heard Garrett mutter slowly, _"Oh my fucking god."_ He registered dimly that that was the first time he'd ever heard him swear.

A flash from someone's camera went off.

══════════════════

With a resounding thud, Caroline, Andrew's manager, slapped a stack of printed articles on his coffee table.

"This is what I have to wake up to," she said. "I don't think I need to remind you that I have a Google alert with your name."

He stared at the headlines in front of him, "The Party Crashers!", "Social Media Battle: Garrett Watts and Andrew Swicki Come to Blows at a Friends Party!", and "Youtuber Rivalry: Garrett Watts and Andrew Swicki Enemies?!" Each one is accompanied by a photo of himself and Garrett flat on their backs, Garrett's ridiculous shirt completely soaked in liquor, a thin slice of red on his cheek.

"You are so fucked," Caroline paced around his living room."I was this close, this close," she made a small space with her two fingers. "To closing the deal with Roost Boys."

Andrew puts his head in his hands and sighed.

"I told you that he'd probably be in that party, to keep it in your pants, to not start this shit." Caroline was practically blowing smoke out of her ears, "no one wants you as a client, they think you're some angsty redhead that'll cause them trouble."

Andrew laughed at her remark.

"This isn't funny," she said, less seriously. "Garrett's manager is flooding my inbox with the new things that are coming out about you two." She sipped her coffee before saying, "you guys are in deep shit."

"He started it!" Andrew finally said, "I barely touched him - he was the one that pushed me, and I only grabbed him to try and catch my balance, and -"

"Andrew, I cannot express how much the press does not give a fuck about who started what. As your friend, I appreciate that maybe this isn't your fault but as your manager all I want to do is find a way to fake your death and send you off to some foreign country." He clenched his jaw.

"I don't have time to deal with this right now so here's the plan," Caroline said, pulling out a folder out of her bag. The first page had bold letters in red that said; Terms of Agreement.

"Um," Andrew said.

"You," she pointed, "are going to make nice with Garrett. You are leaving-" she looked at her watch, "in a few minutes and are spending the entire weekend with him." Before he could protest she pulled out a pen for him to sign with, "you are going to post the shit out of your weekend, you are going to be his best friend, you will smile and nod and not piss anyone off. In a few weeks we'll meet again and access the situation, but until then, your instagram must be filled with his face."

He blinked, "Is it too late to fake my death?"

"Far too late, now I'm going to meet with Garrett's manager and you are going to meet with him by that coffee bean you like."

══════════════════

Andrew rested his elbow on the lacquered white fence boards that surrounded the coffee bean, fighting back the sudden, absurd feeling that he was underdressed for this. On any other day, his Adida track pants and gray shirt would be fine, but for the first time in a long time he felt out of his element. Did his hair look awful from this morning?

He reminded himself that Garrett had probably just woken up, it's not like he'd look any better. He'd probably look homeless. As if on cue, Garrett walked up to him. He definitely did not look homeless. He was, instead, bathed dramatically in the resilient sunlight, wearing a crisp white shirt and pants he'd never seen before, looking like an actual fairy tale prince. His hair was attractively tousled enough to look like it was supposed to look like that.

"I'm going to throw up on you." Andrew said almost immediately.

"Good morning to you too, Andrew." Garrett said. He began to resent the extra few inches he had on him right now. "You look…. sober."

"Only for you, your highness" He said with an elaborate mock-bow.

"You're too kind." Garrett smiled and Andrew fought the urge to punch in his perfect teeth.

"This is idiotic." He mumbled, grasping at Garrett's hand. The skin was soft and exfoliated and a warmth grew in his chest. A camera followed them, a man sneakingly hid in between trees thinking they didn't see him. Andrew smiled winningly and said through his teeth, "let's get this over with."

"I'd rather lose one of my wands." Garrett said, smiling back. His eyes were big and soft and blue, he desperately needed to be punched in one of them. "I'm sure you could arrange that."

Andrew threw his head back and laughed, loud and false, "go fuck yourself."

"Hardly enough time." Garrett said and released his hand as the man disappeared from his peripheral.

══════════════════

At first it was nothing more than but a tap on the window to the warm night. The sound wound itself around Andrew's ears and began to change, nails on a chalkboard, screeching and rustling around the windowsill. Andrew froze, straining to listen. He pulled the covers taut and hid beneath them, fumbling around with his phone and calling whose ever contact was closest.

It had been exactly two weeks and four days since Garrett and Andrew had been forced to become friends and the media seemed to be fooled quite easily, writing headlines like; "From Youtube, with Love: Garrett Watts and Andrew Siwicki Flaunt Friendship.", "New Bromance Alert: Picture of Garrett Watts and Andrew Siwicki", and by far the least eccentric "Andrew Siwicki's weekend with Garrett Watts".

It started small, Andrew would follow Garrett around flea markets and thrift stores and laugh about the absurdity of the knickknacks Garrett would beg him to buy, and Andrew soon learned that he could not say no to Garrett's stupid pout or the way he looked at him when the cameras weren't around; it was annoying and Andrew would never admit the ceaseless softness he felt when he was around him.

It started to grow when Caroline asked for their friendship to become more personal, "the fans want to see what you do when you aren't being followed around by a weird guy with a camera." And so, Garrett and Andrew stayed home, together that is.

They watched movies and played video games and posted bits of their days. And then there were the late nights Andrew realized Garrett had trouble sleeping at night, he would sit on his patio and watch the moon, "wherever you go, your thumb will always be bigger than the moon. It makes me feel less lost, Andrew." And Andrew would make some stupid remark about how he should be a poet to masquerade the embarrassing thumping of his heart everytime he said his name like that.

Then, Andrew would drag him to bed and every night without fail, just before he could turn the corner, Garrett would ask, _"stay?"_ And Andrew could only bring himself to nod and think that maybe this wasn't so bad after all.

They would sleep inches apart because Andrew's brain couldn't handle the idea of Garrett's prince charming like face so close to his, and Garrett would never do anything to make him feel uncomfortable. So, Garrett would slip two fingers around Andrew's wrist, tapping three times before letting go and falling asleep. The first time it happened Andrew felt the sudden urge to smack him, right in the head, to ask him what the hell he thought he was doing. As the days went on, Andrew grew fond of his little gesture, awaiting it every night.

"There's a ghost in my house." Andrew whispered into the phone.

"What?" Garrett said, his voice raspy and low and Andrew didn't know what to do with himself.

"I'm not saying I believe in ghosts," he reasoned, "but there is definitely a ghost in my house."

"Andrew, it's three in the morning, go to sleep."

"I can't! What if the ghost kills me in my sleep?! You'll never see my gorgeous face again."

"I could live with that." Andrew could hear Garrett's smirk through the phone.

"I'm serious, there is no way I'll be falling asleep tonight."

"You should've stayed the night at mines."

"I got tired of your shitty bed frame."

"I'm hanging up now."

"Fine, fine, fine! I'm sorry, yes, I should've stayed over." Andrew rolled his eyes through the apology, "now what do I do?!"

"Okay, so I've dealt with ghosts before, you just have to get in their mindset." Garrett said, nonchalant.

"Get in their mindset, okay. What else?"

"Think like the ghost, move like the ghost, buy a house by Venice beach with the ghost-"

"Oh my god, fuck you Garrett!" Garrett burst out laughing and Andrew could just picture it, his head thrown back, mouth wide open, bubbling with laughter.

"Well are you going to come over or what?" Andrew asked once he'd stopped laughing.

"See, now I'm starting to think you're enjoying my presence."

"I could never, you have the personality of a cabbage." Andrew said seriously and then; _"please come?"_

"I'll be there in ten."

══════════════════

It isn't long before it's New Years and Ricky is urging him to plan an elaborate party because Ricky will find any excuse to drink his body weight in alcohol.

"Parties are not really my thing."

"C'mon they so are. We all know you're an attention whore."

"Jesus, Ricky."

"Please, we haven't been to a party in forever and plus, you'll get to invite your new best friend."

"Garrett's not my best friend."

"Now if Caroline heard you say that she'd kill you."

"Don't remind me." Andrew groaned at the thought of signing another mountain of NDA forms.

"So c'mon Siwicki, will ya?"

"Okay." Andrew finally gave in and Ricky was practically bouncing off the walls.

"You will not regret this."

Neon lights flashed around the room and Andrew was practically melting in the crowded apartment filled with people he didn't quite know. The music was loud as thunder and every inch of the room rattled with the bass.

Andrew smiled despite himself and texted Garrett. "PSA: I am wearing a cool leather jacket tonight. Please do not attempt to steal my shine, you will fail and I will be embarrassed for you."

Garrett texted back seconds later; "Wouldn't dream of it, princess."

Andrew texted back a middle finger and a less hostile response, "Hurry up, I need to make fun of your outfit before the alcohol runs out."

"Incoming!" Caleb bustled through the door with a bright burst of color, it turns out his bomber jacket is much more fluorescent than any light in the room. Andrew almost had to squint to see the rest of him. The color faded slightly, though, when his eyes slid to the right.

It was the first time Andrew had seen Garrett in person since he came over around four in the morning, six nights ago. It almost felt like meeting a new person. He knew more about Garrett, understood him better, and he could appreciate that rare smile that rested on his face.

It was weird cognitive dissonance. That must have been why he felt so restless and hot when Garrett approached him. That and the whiskey.

Garrett was wearing a simple jean like button up and it was less horrible than Andrew had prepared for.

"Nice shirt." Andrew said as soon as Garrett was close enough for him to hear.

"Thought I'd switch it up a bit."

"Suits you better than blue and brown."

"Well, whiskey suits you better than tequila." Andrew tossed his head back and laughed and Garrett watched, still grinning, against all odds, and to his dismay, Andrew did really like this person.

"Well come on," Andrew led him to the drinks. "You've got some catching up to do."

There was dancing and mingling and a speech by a drunk Ricky about how much he loves Andrew, they all started a conga line and Garrett surprisingly seemed to be enjoying himself. Caleb and Ricky stole Garrett away to gab at the bar and Andrew watched them for afar. Wondering what they could be talking about that had the both of them almost on the floor laughing. After a while, the music broke into a mix of early 2000's hip-hop, all the greatest hits that came out when Andrew was a child and were somehow still in rotation for some of his dances in middle school. That's when Garrett found him again.

"You don't dance?" Andrew said, watching Garrett, who had no idea what to do with his hands. It was adorable. Wow, Andrew was drunk.

"No, I do," Garrett said. "It's just this music is way different than what I'm used to."

"C'mon, it's like in the hips. You have to loosen up." Andrew reached down and put both hands on Garrett's hips, and Garrett instantly tensed under his touch.

"That's the opposite of what I said."

"Andrew, I don't -"

"Here," Andrew said, moving his own hips, "watch me."

With a grave gulp of whiskey, Garret says, "I am."

The song crossfades into another, buh-duh dum-dum-dum-

"Shut up" Andrew yelled, cutting off whatever else Garrett was saying, "shut your dumb face, this is my shit!"

He threw his hands up in the air as Garrett stared blankly at him and then, a girl was surrounding him, swaying her hips on Andrew's, kissing him when the clock struck at midnight, and Garrett was looking back at them, expression unreadable. He felt his smile grow wider, and Garrett turned away and toward the bottle of whiskey clutched in his fist, from which he took a swing before disappearing into the crowd. Andrew lost track of things after that, because he was very, very, drunk and the music was very, very, very loud and he wondered how the police hadn't been called on them.

But beneath the liquor and the music and his friends, he couldn't help but notice that Garrett had disappeared. He checked the bathrooms, the rooms, the quiet corners, but he was nowhere to be found. He tried asking some of the people that were floating around but they just smiled and nodded and shrugged off his attempts.

He's…..worried isn't the word. Annoyed. Curious. He kept looking until he was outside the apartment, tripping over his own feet by the big hallways. He was pulling himself up when he realized that by the small garden, the one with benches and lights that no one ever visited enough, was a broad-shouldered figure that could only be Garrett.

He stood quietly, hands in pocket, contemplating the sky, and he'd almost look sober if it weren't for that drunken wobbly lean of his. Stupid dignity, even in the face of whiskey. Andrew wanted to push him into the rose bushes. Andrew tripped over the bench and the sound caught Garrett's attention. When he turned, the moonlight caught on him and his face looked soft, inviting in a way that made Andrew feel uneasy.

"What're you doing out here?" Andrew said, trudging up to stand next to him.

"Looking for Orion." Garrett squinted at the sky. A muscle in Garrett's jaw moved, and something small like a smile tugged at his lips.

"D'you ever wonder," he said slowly, "what it would be like if no one knew who you were?"

Andrew frowned, "what do you mean?"

"Just, you know," Garrett said. "If you hadn't been a cameraman and you were just a normal idiot living a normal life, what things might be like?"

"Well I mean obviously I'd be a model or a famous writer, with lots and lots of awards." 

Garrett rolled his eyes.

"What about you?"

Garrett shook his head ruefully. "I'd be a film director."

"Can't you do that now?"

"Not exactly. I haven't filmed anything serious in ages, my family never saw it worthwhile for man to film movies about love and life." Garrett bit his lips and opened his mouth again. "I'd probably date more."

Andrew laughed, "Right, because it's so hard to get a date when you're you."

"You'd be surprised."

"How? It's not like you don't have options."

Garrett kept looking at him for two seconds too long and Andrew wanted to smack his arm.

"The options I'd like…..." he said, dragging the words out. "They don't seem to be options at all."

Andrew blinked. "Huh?"

"I'm saying, I have…. people… who interest me, but I shouldn't pursue them."

Was Garrett too drunk to communicate in English? Andrew wondered if Garrett knew any French.

"I don't know what the fuck you are talking about." Andrew said.

"You don't?"

"No."

"You really don't?"

"I really don't."

Garrett's face grimaced in frustration, his eyes casting skyward like they were searching for help from the stars.

"For fucks sake, you are as thick as it gets", he said, and he grabbed Andrew's face in both hands and kissed him.

Andrew was frozen, registering the tender press of Garrett's lips and the soft cuffs of his shirt that grazed his jaw. The world fizzed out into static and Andrew was trying his hardest to keep up, adding up the equation of an inexplicable hatred, and late night phone calls, and movie nights, and Garrett's bed and his arm. Trying to understand the variables that had brought him here and how, surprisingly, he didn't mind. Like, at all.

In a rush he tried to cobble a list in his head, getting as far as one; _1\. Garrett's lips are soft and sweet._ And proceeded to short circuit.

He tests this, whatever this was, and leaned into the kiss. Only to be rewarded by Garrett's mouth sliding open, his tongue brushed his, which was, _wow_. It was nothing like kissing the girl he kissed minutes ago, it was nothing like kissing anyone he's kissed before.

Just as suddenly as the kiss started, it stopped. Garrett released him roughly, staggering backwards, eyes wide and apologizing, spinning on his heels before Andrew could mutter out a word, and running off at double time.

"Oh," Andrew finally said, faintly touching his red lips. And then; "Shit."

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

**SO, THE THING ABOUT THE KISS IS ANDREW CANNOT STOP THINKING ABOUT IT.** He's tried. Not even his morning hangover could scrub the image from his brain. He tried listening in on Caroline's meetings, but they couldn't hold his attention, she banned him from the room. He studied the articles religiously, the ones with Andrew and Garrett smiling on the cover, but cannot muster enough enthusiasm to go on. He started his day, grabbed his mail, had lunch with his friends, buried himself in work.

But beneath it all, there was Garrett, kissing him in the garden, moonlight in his hair, Orion above them, and Andrew's insides felt molten, and he wanted to throw himself off the balcony. He hadn't told anyone, not even Ricky or Caleb. He had no idea what he would even say if he did. Was he even allowed to tell anyone, since he signed an NDA? Was this why he had to sign it? Was this Garrett's plan all along? Does that mean that Garrett had feelings for him? Why would Garrett have acted like a tedious prick if he liked him? How was Andrew supposed to know he was gay? Garrett was not offering any insight, or anything at all. He hadn't answered a single of Andrew's texts or calls.

"Okay that's it," Ricky said one morning, stomping into Andrew's living room. "You've been weird all week so we're going on a run."

"I hate you." Andrew groaned.

"C'mon man, it'll help you clear your head."

And so, Ricky dragged him to the park, kicked the back of Andrew's knee to get him going, and Andrew grunted and swore and picked up the pace. He thought, as he ran and ran and ran, the stupidest thing of all is that he's straight. Like, he's pretty sure he's straight.

He can pinpoint moments throughout his life when he thought to himself, _See, this means I can't possible be gay._ Like when he was in middle school and kissed a girl for the first time under a tree by the schoolyard, and he didn't think of a guy when it was happening. Or when he was a junior and one of his friends came out as gay, and he couldn't fathom ever doing something like that. Or his senior year, when he got drunk and made out with Noah, a senior in his class, for an hour in his twin bed, and didn't have a sexual crisis about it - that must mean he was straight, right? Because if he were into guys, it would've been scary to be with one, but it wasn't.

He glanced over at Ricky, at the suspicious quirk of his lips. Could he hear what he was thinking? Did he know, somehow? Ricky always knew things.

He doubled his pace, to get Ricky's expression out of his peripheral. On their fifth lap, he thought back over his hormonal teen years and remembered thinking about girls in the shower, but also wondering what it would feel like to have a boy's hands on him. But that was, like, a curiosity thing. How was he supposed to know if that meant anything? He lived in Chicago for most of his life. It was something he was always around. So, he always assumed that if he weren't straight, he would know, just _know_ , like he knows that he loves weird ice cream flavors and small dogs.

They were rounding the corner for their eighth lap now, and Andrew began to see the problem in his logic. Straight people, he thought, probably don't spend this much time convincing themselves they're straight.

On their ninth lap, he thought about Garrett. He thought about Garrett, and, _oh_. Something twisted in his chest, something he had been avoiding for too long. He thought about Garrett's voice low in his ear over the phone at three in the morning, and a fire grew at the pit of his stomach. Garrett's hands on him, his thumb braced against his temple like back in the party, Garrett's hands all over him. Garrett's mouth, what it might do if Andrew had let him. Garrett's broad shoulders and long legs, the place his jaw met his neck, and the way he looks at him, with a challenging yet soft glare, and his impossibly blue eyes-

Andrew tripped on a crack in the pavement and went tumbling down, skinning his knee.

"Dude, what the hell? Your brain is literally so out of it. Are you gonna tell me or what?" So, he didn't know.

"It's fine, I'm fine."

══════════════════

Garrett couldn’t avoid him forever. There was one part of the post-party arrangement to fulfill: the meeting in which they discuss the results of their little experiment. Andrew smoothed out his button up and hovered close to Caroline as they entered the office building; it was seriously gray. Garrett entered the room right. His shirt was blue, smooth, elegant. Perfect. Andrew wanted to rip it off. His face was reserved, then downright when he saw Andrew.

"Caroline, I need Garrett alone."

"We aren't starting yet, you're free to-"

"No, I need him alone," Andrew hated how desperate he sounded. "Please?"

Caroline nodded, understanding. She exchanged some incoherent words with Garrett's manager and promptly left them, alone, like Andrew asked.

"Do you mind?" Garrett asked as Andrew stood closer to him.

"Shut your face."

"What on earth are you doing?

"Shut up, shut up, shut all the way up." Andrew grabbed Garrett's shirt in his fist, and there was a flash in Garrett's eyes, like he was almost daring him to do it.

He reached the nearest wall, shoved Garrett against it and crushed their mouths together.

Garrett was too shocked to respond, his mouth opened slackly, more surprised than anything. And Andrew worried that he'd missed something, that Garrett never wanted this, that the kiss at the party was just a drunken mistake.

But then Garrett was kissing back and it was _everything_. It felt good, better, than he had remembered. And he couldn't recall why they hadn't been doing this the entire time.

"Wait," Garrett says, breaking off.

"Shouldn't we-"

"What?"

"Shouldn't we go to dinner first or-"

"You just had your tongue down my throat, what do you mean dinner?"

"Right I mean I just thought-"

"Stop thinking."

"Yes, gladly."

And they were kissing again and it was tender and rough and Andrew wished it could last forever.

There was a knock at the door and Andrew knows it's Caroline and Garrett's manager, they stopped.

"I'm going to die," Garrett ran a hand through his hair.

"I'm going to kill you."

"Yes, you are."

══════════════════

Andrew woke up alone. It took a moment for everything to reorient around the fixed point in his chest where last night settled. The elaborate gilded headboard that left a dent on the wall, the heavy embroidered duvet, the soft twill blanket beneath that Andrew actually chose. He slid his hand across the sheet, over to Garrett's side of the bed. It was cool to the touch.

The doorknob turned, and Garrett opened the door to find him. Garrett held two mugs and smiled a wan, unreadable smile. He was in his soft sweats again, brushed with morning mist. 

It had been three months since they kissed in secret at the conference room, and only their managers knew. Not Andrew's family because he was morbidly sure they would disown him once they knew. Not Garrett's family because he wasn't sure of what they might do and the uncertainty scared him. Not the media because they weren't ready to have that conversation with the world.

"Your hair in the morning is truly awful." Is how Andrew broke the silence.

Garrett crossed and knelt on the edge of the mattress, offering Andrew a mug.

"I told them." Garrett pulled back when Andrew reached for him.

"Told who, love?" Andrew chewed on his lip.

"My family." Garrett said the words tentatively, "they called, while you were asleep. And I just started thinking about how my brothers turned out, all equally happy with their lives and their children and wives. I want that, desperately. And though this all may seem very sudden, I want that with you. That happiness, I mean. I just, god Andrew, I had to tell them."

"Where's this going, baby?"

"I mean I just told them like, 'hey I'm gay by the way'. And they were okay with it. My mom cried but she always cries. My sister already knew and my brothers, well my brothers were as supportive as they knew how to be."

"Garrett, that's great." His hand moved, fingertips brushing a strand of hair behind Garrett's ear.

"I think I'm beginning to believe that I have the right to choose, you know. That if they know, anyone knows, that I'll still be the same person they knew."

"You do." He said, "And there is nothing wrong with you, aside from the fact that you're occasionally an obtuse fucking asshole."

Garrett laughed again, wetly, his eyes crinkling up into the corner, and Andrew was. Well, Andrew was so in love he could die.

"I love you." Garrett told him, softly. "And I'm sorry I didn't let you tell me that last night before we, well, you know. I wasn't ready to hear it then. I panicked and it was daft and unfair and I'm sorry."

"I love you too." Andrew said. "Let's go back to bed, the sun still hasn't come up."

Garrett buried his head in Andrew's collarbone and it was _everything._

══════════════════

The sound of Andrew's phone buzzing on his nightstand startled him out of a dead sleep. He was halfway out of bed, fumbling to answer it.

"Hello?"

"What did you do?" Caroline's voice nearly shouts. By the clicking of heels in the background and muttered swearing, she was running somewhere.

"Um," Andrew says. Rubbing his eyes, trying to get his brain back online. _What did he do?_ "Be more specific?"

"Check fucking twitter, you horny little miscreant - how could you possibly be stupid enough to get photographed? I swear to God -" Andrew doesn't even hear the last part of what she says, because his stomach had just dropped all the way down to the first floor of this shitty apartment complex. _"Fuck."_

Hands shaking, he switches Caroline on speaker phone, opens up google, and types his own name. "Breaking: Photo Reveal Romantic Relationship between Garrett Watts and Andrew Siwicki." "Read Andrew Siwicki's Steamy Messages to Garrett Watts." "25 GIFS That Perfectly Describe Our Reaction When We Heard About Garrett Watts and Andrew Siwicki."

A bubble of hysterical laughter emerges from his throat because this is so fucking terrifying it doesn't even feel real. There are articles upon articles with the same image attached, Garrett kissing him behind the cafe, apparently shot with a long range lens through the windshield of his car. _Fucking shitting hell_. He is so fucked. Garrett is so fucked. His ears are ringing and he's literally about to throw up.

"I need to call Garrett-"

"No you do fucking not." Caroline says firmly, "We still have no idea how those messages got leaked so it's on radio silence until we figure it out."

"The- what? Is Garrett okay?" God, _Garrett._ He should’ve drove over to his last night. All he can think about is Garrett's big blue eyes looking terrified, his breathing coming shallow and quick, locked in his bedroom, desperately alone, and Andrew wants to jump out the window like some fucking superhero to go save him.

And then Caroline is dragging him out of his apartment in his pajamas to her office and she's promising him that he'll get to see Garrett, and Andrew is crying hysterically because he's lost everything. He's lost _their_ moment. The one in where Garrett and Andrew are both incandescently happy and safe, and so fucking ready to tell the world of their love. The media, twitter, whoever leaked the pictures, the messages, did everything on their own terms, not theirs.

 _"_ _Sweetheart!"_ Andrew is practically jumping in Garrett's arms when he sees him, his face wet and hair a mess, but it was Garrett, sweet lovely Garrett.

"I'm so sorry." He said muffled.

"What are you sorry for?"

"I don't know, I just know this isn't how we wanted people to find out, and god, Andrew your family-"

"We'll figure it out, okay?"

"This is Camille, Garrett's manager." Caroline points to the petite blonde woman next to her, she extends her hand and Andrews takes it.

"Some idiot with a degree tapped Garrett's phone, we already filed a police report, they're doing an investigation and all that boring stuff." Caroline pushes the report in front of them. "You guys can either deny all of these rumors, say the pictures were fake. Hire someone to pretend to be the person who created them. Or you can tell the truth and well, all these rumors won't be rumors anymore."

Andrew takes Garrett's hands, they're shaking.

"Do you want-"

"Only if you-"

"It's not perfect but-"

"I think we're ready-"

"Are we both talking about the same thing?"

"Yes, I think so."

"Well if we are then, yes."

"Can someone please explain what the fuck you guys are talking about?" Caroline asks.

"We're releasing a statement."

══════════════════

 **Andrew Siwicki** @AndrewSiwicki 10 minutes ago

Dear everyone, if you are reading this I am sure you are aware of the information released today. I was originally instructed to deny these claims. I have decided against that. I am, instead, choosing to tell you all the truth.

Years ago, I met a prince at my apartment complex and though I didn’t realize it then, I was absolutely enamored by him.

The truth is, Garrett and I have been together for the past three months. The truth is, we have both been struggling with what this means for our families, both online and offline. We both had to make a compromise that cost us sleep at night in order to afford enough time for our relationship. We were not granted that liberty, because a man cannot just love a man like a man loves a woman. But the truth is, also simply this: love is indomitable. And so I am not ashamed to admit that I love him. I am madly, truly, deeply, in love with Garrett Watts. I am no longer afraid to say these words, I will not apologize for the photos and the messages that have been leaked, they exemplify just that.

We will be taking some time off social media and I hope you all understand why. A big thank you to the people who have sent their love, support and kind words to us today, they were appreciated and needed. I’ll see you all in a bit, please stay safe and be kind to one another.

**Garrett Watts** @Garrett_Watts   
5 minutes ago

I could have not said things better myself, I cannot explain how much I love this human 💕🌈

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did!  
> 


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